


Warm is the night

by Kuruccha



Category: Black Lagoon
Genre: F/M, Minor Swearing, Slice of Life, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-02-10 09:13:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2019447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuruccha/pseuds/Kuruccha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summer, night, cigarettes, Revy who after all is a woman and Rock who indeed always knew. On the background, a Roanapur that never sleeps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warm is the night

  
**Warm is the night**

  
The pallor of Revy’s bare back shines against the dark night - and it's kind of ironic, since Rock thought he could have never defined her _candid_ , not even if the comparison term was the warm neon light of the brothels in Roanapur.  
She swears while her lighter keeps on emitting its clicks, giving rise to no flame. It’s broken, or the gas finished, or god only knows what had happened, but he’s sure she’ll show no mercy - and then she throws it down with an energic shot, like she wants to shoot it kilometers away. Rock thinks about the unfortunate man who will see it falling on his head, and hopes he’s not good person at least. (Not that it’s easy to find one, in Roanapur).  
The skirt of her dress – or what remains of it, since Revy seems to have gathered all the unnecessary fabric around her waist in a practical, giant knot - sways following her movements. Even her pale thighs glisten, but he knows she doesn’t care about putting all that skin on display.  
Rock loosens the tie on his throat and takes a step.

"Hey, Rock. Got a lighter?"  
"Ah. Yes. Here."  
"Heaven be praised," she replies, pulling the first breath in a hurry and then exhaling. "The sham’s not over yet?"  
"Seems not. Dutch is still downstairs."  
"Was it really necessary to dress up like this?"  
Rock loosens his tie again, then curves beside Revy over the terrace railing.  
"Who knows. Rather, Dutch will have a breakdown at seeing how you've reduced that dress..."  
"Why?" she questions, weighing the knot of fabric. "It’s not like I damaged it. Now it’s just... adequate. "  
Rock extends his hand to take his lighter back.  
"I hope the clothing rental lady thinks the same."  
"Look at you... you're even more rumpled than in a normal day. Shit, you wear it every day. Those uncomfortable clothes."  
Rock smiles - one of his submissive clerk smiles, just like the ones he did when he wanted to point out how stupid his boss’ decisions were, and instead was silent - and doesn’t comment.  
Revy keeps on complaining and stretches her arms over the railing.

"Such a pain in the ass. And it's so _hot_ , damn it!" she repeated again and again. Rock, for once, couldn’t blame her.  
Revy attempts to broaden the wide neckline of her dress with one of her usual inelegant movements. The fabric emits a hardly reassuring sound; some pulled wire must have reached the breaking point.  
"It will rip."  
"As if it mattered."  
"You'll be sorry when you’ll have to repay it. And it's a pity."  
"I'm not the kind of woman who fits this kind of clothes. Not like that Chinese bitch that-"  
"Such a waste" he insists, and he’s sincere, and he’s not saying it because that dress shows more skin than what it covers - which is basically a habit, when it comes to her.  
"Looks like you’re flirting, Rock" she mocks him. For a moment the submissive smile on his face flashes again; Revy knows it well, because it’s the smile he does when he bites his tongue. She immediately averts her gaze and watches the city.  
"Lies. It’s just the heat" he says.  
His hand glides over the skin of Revy’s back – it’s hot and dry and soft under his fingertips. Still those of an employee, even after all that time, with calluses only on the points where he used to place his pen. He stops his hand on her side, just below the fabric, but Revy’s expression doesn’t change.  
"Just the heat?" she asks.  
"Yeah."  
She’s ok with it.  
With its red and thick lights, Roanapur stands dark against Revy’s white skin.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little thing.  
> Originally written in Italian to fill the prompt on the summary, and then translated into English. No proof-reading, so some of the sentences may look a little odd. (Point me out all of my horrible mistakes, and I'll thank you dearly!)  
> Hope this still makes some sense. :D


End file.
